by A. Wrighton
A rain of dirt and gravel sprinkled the Ledge.
Kalyna’s smile returned as she opened both eyes and found Tiryne pacing just off the Ledge. The Earth Beast seemed sad but happy at the outcome. She bellowed before she joined Floxen just above the Ledge on an outcropping of rocks.
Kalyna turned and found Vylain and Gage silently clapping behind the rigidly obtuse form of Lanthar. Lanthar’s celadon eyes glistened with composed rage – so composed that she almost laughed.
“Vylain, explain. Now,” Lanthar said.
“We are preparing her for combat against the Dragons.”
“It’s a necessity, Lanthar,” Gage said, dusting himself off.
“Tell me Alaister knows.”
Vylain and Gage exchanged a look, their arms behind their backs and chests exposed to Lanthar. Neither spoke and Kalyna, for once, had no words to say.
“For Watcher’s sake, Vylain! Are you mental?”
“No.”
“And Gage, of all people?”
“Yes.”
“When Alai—”
“Lanthar, please….” Kalyna locked onto his arms.
Lanthar exhaled sharply at his acceptance of touch and met Kalyna’s eyes.
“I begged them to… this was my idea. They couldn’t have said no.”
“That is where you are wrong.”
“No… I…” Her eyes wandered. Her grip lessened until she found the idea she clamored for. A surge of panicked heat tingled through her hands. She locked onto Lanthar’s gaze and spoke with her most stoic, stern voice.
“I threatened them.”
“You threatened them?”
“Yes. Just like I am threatening you…”
“Kalyna don’t be…”
The heat that seared where she touched him grew unbearable, but she held fast. Lanthar lasted only a moment longer, breaking her contact and stepping back to find she had sealed the four of them within a ring of blue, Runic fire.
“I need to be trained. Alaister won’t hear of it.”
“For good reason.”
The flames crackled an angry purple.
“I know his reasoning and you must understand mine. Lanthar, I know nothing but what they have shown me, which is little. I need their help. And, I need yours.”
“This isn’t…”
“Would you help if I asked nicely?”
“Commander Paine—”
“Is wrong,” Vylain said. “And you know it. It isn’t him speaking; it’s his father and Syn. They’re wrong. Times are different. She needs to know what to expect. We owe her that for fighting with us. We owe her a chance to survive. Don’t we, Lanthar?”
Kalyna exhaled, shaking from the amassing Fire Runes in her system. She looked up and found Lanthar staring at her. He showed no fear like some of the others at the red of her eyes. He accepted her. Now, he had to accept her request. There was no other way.
A look reminiscent of agreeable pity formed in his eyes. Lanthar sighed before swatting at the flames. “Ask me nicely Kalyna, or so help me, I will tell Alaister.”
Kalyna released the flames and staggered. Vylain extended a cup of water without being asked. She smiled at his intellect. He had been studying her as he studied the Beasts.
“I’m sorry, Lanthar. I just…”
“I know.”
“Please, help us? Help me?”
“If we do this, we’re going to do this safely.”
“They’re Dragons, Lanthar. They don’t exactly do anything safely,” Gage mumbled.
Lanthar exhaled and gestured past the ledge. “We go to the bottom of the canyon where no one can see us and where their field of attack is limited.”
“All right.”
“Agreed.”
“Fine.”
“Good, now let’s get some training in before we’re missed at the Hall.”
Lanthar whistled sharply for Blythet and extended his hand to Kalyna. He did not speak as he pulled her behind him. Lanthar’s lips only moved after Vylain and Gage had departed for the canyon base.
“Alaister will kill us both for this, but never threaten me again, Kalyna. It isn’t in your nature nor is it in mine not to act definitively…”
She bowed her head, resting her pink cheeks on his back. Lanthar cycled another deep breath as she whispered a soft, “I know.”
With a bark of the flight command to Blythet, the Earth Beast took wing. And, though she couldn’t be sure and she didn’t dare ask Lanthar to repeat himself, Kalyna swore Lanthar’s final words lost to the wind sounded something like, “…it’s damn terrifying.”
OFFICERS’ QUARTERS
THE DEN, NORTHERN SOLERAN MOUNTAINS
He stared at the logbook, through it. He gripped the edges until the pages and binding warped. It yielded no further answers. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Alaister slammed the logbook onto his stone desk and stared after its wayward trajectory.
Kai Paine had always disapproved of changes to his strategy. He was a master planner known for his insight and thoroughness. He had always been right – always steadfast and reliable. His plans never failed. It was always whatever the Commander said. Whatever Commander Paine said was law. It was done – unquestioned, without hesitation.
But now, Alaister was Commander Paine and he had no clue, no inkling. Alaister paced along the empty space between his desk, bedding, and the quartered off washroom. He had almost carved a pathway into the gray rock. He stopped at the window facing the canyon and braced his weight against the stones. Alaister slowed his breathing, shut his eyes, and took in the depth of the canyon and its inhabitants’ fitful flights.
Vylain held a valid point. Times were different. They were not the same Dragonics; they were not the same Rogues. And, there was a Runic. Few people upheld the Dragonic Code and even fewer Council Dragonics did. The Rogues were a breed of Dragonic and humanity that was dying quickly and without fail.
Kai Paine had maintained that self-preservation was best achieved through tradition, dedication, and order. It had been accepted as truth since his inception of the Rogues, and Alaister knew he was no one to tamper with such logic. His father had been a legend, nearly a god. He was no one compared to the imprinted shadow his father left in his wake.
He had died nearly twenty cycles ago.
They still called him Commander Paine’s son – Kai’s boy – but Commander Paine, nonetheless. A Commander instilled to obey the orders of a dead man whose legend was even greater with his passing. It pressed on Alaister. He did not know how he could garner enough weight, enough merit, to alter the course his father had chosen. Who was he to break his father’s wishes – wishes that he had striven to achieve since his bonding with Jaxin. Since his father’s death, Alaister had only ever wanted to be the perfect son to the man who had it all. He had lived to preserve and uphold his legacy.
Yet now, Alaister realized he was considering – devastatingly seriously – destroying it. To disobey Kai Paine’s orders. Over a Runic – over a woman. The One. Alaister was the only one with some leeway to flirt with the idea of tampering with his father’s legacy. He was of Kai’s blood. Kai’s mind.
The world might make an exception.
Maybe.
Alaister looked up from his pacing and caught the patient gaze of Old Man Syn.
Synge read the doubt on Alaister’s face. He knew the twinkle of temptation to break conventions well. Kai had looked at him with it once, too. “Your father was a smart man, Alaister.”
“I know this.”
“His ways have preserved us.”
“I know.”
“His ways must be followed – all of them.” Synge paused and waited for the twinkle to die. He could not bear to lose Alaister like he had Kai. Silently, he begged Alaister to yield – break that stubborn mold – to obey.
Alaister did not speak. His thoughts roared loud enough inside his head to render speech useless. He stared blankly in front of him, seeing neither Synge nor Callon approach. He coul
d only see his father.
Synge saw him too.
Kai looked like he did before his wife Torai had sucked his soul from him. In Alaister’s stance, Kai lived. The black hair was the same and the steel blue eyes morphed into the fierce sky-hued eyes that pierced minds and struck fear into hearts.
Synge blinked.
Kai leaned against the wall, arms pressed against his chest in thought. He chewed on something invisible and stared past and through Synge. He fiddled with his leather wristband, picking at the crest stamped onto it. He was formulating a plan – rewriting destiny. Kai’s lips pursed then frowned as he started to speak. When Kai did finally speak, it was the only indication that he was not Kai.
His enunciations were different. His tone lacked the rich, silkiness of Kai’s voice. The afflicted accents on vowels twisted the voice into Alaister’s. Synge shook his head and stared at the younger Paine. It had always been his prayer that the Watcher would forever preserve the Paine bloodline; Solera would be lost without them. And now, Alaister Paine was up to something as grandiose as his father’s last mission.
Alaister, despite his own doubts, was a worthy and capable successor to the Paine legacy. If only, Syn thought, he could embrace his father’s memory. But, with the arrival of the Runic, a woman who so looked like the Order’s own Runic – the woman who helped found the very organization that now protected Kalyna – Alaister seemed deeply conflicted. The twinkle of conception dulled. Alaister doubted himself and his father more than ever.
Kalyna was a welcome addition to the cold cavern. Too long they had been without the warmth of such a woman, and her kind heart and softening smile filled the void left by their long lost feminine resident. Kalyna was a beautiful soul and body. It was no secret that Kalyna, for her odd looks and beauty, had caught most of the eyes of the Rogues. She was not only someone they wanted and yearned to protect. She was one they deeply needed to protect.
Tall and fragilely beautiful, she was the unwavering epitome of raw power. Her flaxen waves framed a face of fierce lips and eyes that sparkled like liquid copper. She exhaled energy – life. And Synge was tragically aware that Kalyna could carve the same grin across the Alaister's lips that her predecessor had unbelievable carved into Kai. Her effect was contagious and devastating. None who knew her would be the same.
Especially, Alaister. Though Synge knew Alaister would never admit his admiration and perhaps affections, he was well aware that if Alaister could acknowledge nothing else about her, it was that she had to be saved. In truth, they both did – the cost of which escaped Synge. Fate had already exacted a daunting toll on the Order and the Resistance.
Alaister placed a firm hand on Synge’s shoulder, breaking his trance. “What are you thinking of, Old Man?”
“The past. It serves to guide my thinking.”
Alaister exhaled in dismay. The past guided so much that it choked any possibility of a differing, altered future. Whether this was good or not was left untold, and it burned inside him. Things had always been easy decisions for him. Good or bad. Black or white. Now, Alaister could not be sure it was the right thing. Things were different now. Life was a melding gray. There was a Runic and she was very much alive.
“Alaister?”
“Times have changed, Synge.”
“But logic presides, Young Paine.”
Alaister seethed at the name Synge had not called him since he was a boy of fourteen cycles. “Perhaps….”
“Always.”
“Always is a term we cannot evaluate right now, Syn. There is a possibility that father’s methods… while right in theory are no longer right in practicality.”
Synge exhaled sharply. He had prepared for the day when Alaister would no longer rely so heavily on the words of an ailing, dying Rogue. Its sudden arrival rubbed, as did the confusion across Alaister’s face. Synge sighed and rested a hand on the young, broad shoulder. Alaister did not move. His mind raced elsewhere, his eyes looking at something Synge could not see.
“In the end Alaister, you are the Commander here. Of that, there is no doubt.”
Alaister returned slowly and nodded with a smile.
“It is almost sun-up,” Synge said softly. “I’ll leave you to your duties. I trust that you will do what is right, as your father before you did. Your judgment I have full confidence in.” Syn paused and extended Kai’s old practice sword. “What you asked for, Commander.”
Alaister took his father’s old practice sword and bowed his head in gratitude. He turned the blade over in his hand and felt its weight. The sword would do well for training Kalyna, as it was lighter than their swords. The odd engraving on the blade in Drakanic remained bold and legible. Alaister smiled and quickly reminded himself to ask Kalyna to translate, as its meaning had been a curiosity since his youth. Alaister’s eyes darted towards his window. Slowly, darkness gave way to an incandescent purple and orange glow.
Kalyna would be walking to their spot soon.
THE HALLS
THE DEN, NORTHERN SOLERAN MOUNTAINS
Alaister hopped onto a saddle-cleaning table and stared from his cup of tavi to the cavern opening. Beyond the darkness, every few moments a great Beast would fly past half asleep, the night’s dew still laden upon their wings. He stared at their beautiful morning dance for so long that his hand grew tired of holding the mug. Alaister set it down with an exhale as he withdrew his daily tasks for the day, unrolling the scroll slowly into his fingertips. He read through the scribbled notes from his commanders, unaware of the copper eyes lurking around the corner watching him.
Kalyna did not move to remedy their distance at first. She watched Alaister’s graceful posture as he scoured the scroll. He was lost in it all, and for those few silent moments, Kalyna stood in awe. Alaister had so much responsibility to bear but was still a child in his own right. His eyes were older, pain-filled and battle-weary, but his body remained young and fitful. He swayed as he read, his legs kicking absent-mindedly as his eyes scanned the scroll.
Kalyna watched his odd sway and kick dance for as long as her stomach could ignore its impulse to imbibe tavi. With a sharp growl of distaste, she pushed out from the shadows and into the growing light of the morning. “Well hello, stranger.”
Alaister looked up and smiled. He set the scroll beside him and extended a large mug of tavi at Kalyna. She looked exhausted. Her hair clung to the morning dew of the canyon’s ravine and her hem was lined with a profound ring of dirt. Her brown cinch hid the only pristine piece of black dress left.
Kalyna clutched the mug to her chest and inhaled the steaming aroma. “Thank you, Alaister.”
“Just the way you like it, though I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”
“Rest will come soon enough.” Kalyna took a deep sip of the caramel colored liquid and nodded towards the scroll. “What’s on the agenda, Commander?”
“Alaister.”
Kalyna laughed.
“Drills.”
“Is that all you ever do around here?”
“Occasionally we eat.”
“Oh.”
“We have a recruiting round coming in two days’ time. We’ll need the patrols drilled to work with half their usual numbers.”
“Recruiting?”
“Despite what Callon may have you believing Kal, none of us can live forever. We are always recruiting fresh blood for the saddle.”
“The lights in the window… from the bedtime story? They’re true, too?”
Alaister laughed at her potent shock and wonder. “Yes. They’re true.”
“Huh.”
“Learn anything new yet?”
“Touch and go…” Kalyna said before swallowing her telling frown with a deep gulp. Her gaze wandered outside and fixated on the Dragons waking on the rims.
“They’re magnificent, aren’t they?” Alaister asked.
“They’re something beautiful. I can never seem to take my eyes off them when they’re around. Listener save me from ever having to
ride one.”
Alaister laughed. “Normally I would say that such a thing could never happen, but with you being you and the way those Dragons adore you… Well, you might just fly yet.”
She swirled her tavi with a smile. “No, thank you.”
His baritone laugh echoed along the cavern walls. “You joining us for breakfast this morning, Kal?”
“I think I just might. I am a bit famished.” Kalyna patted her stomach and struggled to hide her body’s obliging gurgle. “Long night.”
“I’m guessing you’ll be needing a refill then?”
“Mmmm…” Kalyna smiled as she slurped her mug dry. “That’d be correct.”
“Off we go then, Kal.”
Alaister slid off and extended his arm to Kalyna. She gracefully held the mug and gripped his forearm with her free hand. She hopped down and teetered on her toes until Alaister settled her. He nodded for her to follow and Kalyna obliged.
“How many recruits do you hope to find?”
“We’ve been getting less and less each season… The Council…” Alaister stopped as the frustration rippled through his body. “The Council has caught wind that the stories were real. They’ve been cracking down on homes with lights in the windows. Few people are brave enough to do it. It makes us have to step a bit out into public, so it is more dangerous and we are easier to catch.”
“I’m sorry." Kalyna meant it.
“It’ll end soon. We have you now.”
Alaister missed her choking on his awkward assurance. Kalyna had never been needed before, and she did like the feeling. She liked belonging somewhere. But, their need was great and grated her soul. She couldn’t bear the thought of failing, let alone failing a man like Alaister or a Cause as great as the Rogues’. Kalyna frowned openly at their obvious necessity of her. But Alaister missed it. He missed all of her hesitations and qualms either purposefully or absentmindedly. Kalyna locked stares with Alaister waiting for him to say something, anything, but he did not blink.
